


Two Faced Ja'far

by Sad_Goat_Noises



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alcohol, Don't ever get Jafar drunk, Gen, Jafar is a little shit, Sharrkan is an idiot, Sinbad Drakon and Hinahoho are scared for their lives, That's it, that's the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23510833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sad_Goat_Noises/pseuds/Sad_Goat_Noises
Summary: Sharrkan had the brilliant idea to give the resident assassin alcohol and Sinbad, Drakon and Hinahoho are now scarred for life (more than they already were).
Relationships: Jafar & Drakon (Magi), Jafar & Hinahoho (Magi), Jafar & Sharrkan (Magi), Jafar & Sinbad (Magi)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 71





	Two Faced Ja'far

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off a fanfic I read https://archiveofourown.org/works/4438403/chapters/10084154  
> Check chapter six for the one this is based off. The idea belongs completely to Aglio_Saggezza.

Drakon, Hinahoho and Sinbad will forever remember that fateful, nightmarish day where Ja’far started being  _ nice _ .

It was completely terrifying as he had gone from, “I’ll murder you! You worm!” with ragged bandages covering his face, to, “Mr. Sinbad! That isn’t very nice!” looking clean and presentable in the span of 24 hours. They weren’t entirely sure what prompted the change, and honestly? They  _ did not _ want to know. 

To this day, years later, they were still questioning what had happened. Was he still the murderous, foul-mouthed brat who’d stab them any second underneath? Or had he truly changed into a respectable advisor, diplomat and general? Well, they got their answer (unfortunately).

It had all started when Sharrkan got the brilliant idea of giving Ja’far alcohol, as none of the other generals had ever seen the stone-faced advisor even slightly tipsy (except Hinahoho, but he never wanted to think about it again), and, well, as they say, curiosity killed the cat.

“C’mon Ja’far! Loosen up a bit! Just have a little!” Sharrkan stood in front of the silver haired man, waving a glass of wine in his face as though to entice him. The chances of that working were not in Sharrkan’s favour, but that had never stopped him before.

Ja’far sighed. “No Sharrkan, you and I both know that Sin will drink far too much and I’ll have to drag him back to his room. Scratch that, you’ll all drink far too much and I’ll be the only one sober enough to drag you idiots back into line.”

Sharrkan pouted and gave the advisor puppy dog eyes that’d make any one weak - except for Ja’far, who’d lived with Sin for so long he had become immune to any sort of puppy dog eyes (excluding Morgiana - everyone was weak for Morgiana’s kicked puppy look). The swordsman huffed. “Fine, I’ll make you a deal.” 

That gained Ja’fars interest - the diplomat in himself could never give up a deal. “Okay, talk.”

“I’ll keep Sinbad away from any type of alcohol for a week if you have at least one glass of wine.” 

Ja’far narrowed his eyes, examining Sharrkan for any sign of lying. “Keep Sin away from the alcohol for a month.”

“Two weeks.”

“... Fine” 

Sharrkan grinned and held out the hand that wasn’t holding the wine. Ja’far hesitated for a few more seconds before tentatively shaking his outstretched hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Ja’far.” Sharrkan offered the drink he was holding to the other man.

Ja’far sighed, resigned to his fate as he took the wine from Sharrkan. “Cheers.”

That was when it all went to shit.

Thing is, Ja’far was very much a lightweight. He couldn’t hold his alcohol for the life of him. He was immune to about every type of poison under the sun, but alcohol? It was basically a one hit KO. And this was not something Sharrkan had accounted for.

After about half a glass, Ja’far was already tipsy and looking slightly more  murdery  than before. After a full glass, he was drunk and ready to stab anyone who got close. The others learnt this the hard way.

“Hey, Ja’far!” Hinahoho called.

“What do you want,  you piece of disgusting vermin ?” Ja’far snapped, looking like he was looking for the quickest way to kill the other general.

Hinahoho stared and stared at Ja’far before turning an almost sickly green. “SIN! GET YOUR SORRY ASS IN HERE RIGHT NOW!” He didn’t shout - no, he  _ screeched. _

Sinbad, obviously concerned by the usually stoic general’s distress, came running. “What’s wrong?”

Ja’far turned to the king and glared in a way the others hadn’t seen in years. “Shut your whore mouth, you repulsive worm.”

And Sinbad, looking at Ja’fars face, fainted.

This, of course, threw the party into chaos. Sure, they’d all seen the king drunk, but they’d never seen him  _ faint _ \- not even in battle, as he was basically a god at this point.

“Ja’far! Check him over for any injuries!” Drakon, who’d gotten there the fastest, instructed.

The grey-eyed advisor gave him a withering look, and in a completely nonchalant voice said, “If he dies, good. If he doesn’t, then I’ll kill him myself tomorrow.”

Drakon froze, then curled up and started rocking back and forth, muttering things like “No, not again,” and “He’s back”. The image of the usually terrifying dragon-headed man rocking back and forth was hilarious to Ja’far.

The other generals seemed to finally realise that the two most unflappable of them (excluding Masrur) were out of commision and that their king was unconscious on the floor, so they rushed over to help in case the situation got worse.

Yamraiha quickly got on her knees and used some magic to look them over. “What’s going on, Ja’far? They seem fine physically, but their mental state is less than ideal.”

The assassin huffed in annoyance, bristling in a way similar to a cat. “Don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care. The only unfortunate thing here was that he” - Ja’far gestured to Sinbad - “isn’t dead at my feet.”

Yamraiha gaped at the freckled man. “What?” She looked to the other generals for answers, but they all looked just as confused as her - even Masrur.

“Hey, um, Ja’far?” Sharrkan said.

Ja’far turned his ever terrifying glare on him. “What?” he snapped.

Sharrkan gulped, clearly trying to hold back his terror. “How about we get you some water? You know, get you away from Sinbad?”

Ja’far seemed to consider for a moment before nodding and following after the tanned prince.

Yamraiha sighed in relief and then turned to Pisti and Spartos, the only remaining generals. “Help me get these three to their rooms.”

The next morning, Ja’far woke with a headache. He looked around and quickly noticed he wasn’t in his quarters. 

He jumped out of bed, ready to attack before realising his surroundings. “The infirmary? Why am I in...” Then suddenly, the memories of last night came crashing back to him.

_ Sharrkan is so dead when I find him. _

Ja’far swiftly got changed into his robes and took long strides out of the Sindrian’s palace infirmary. 

It didn’t take him long to find a servant to question. “Excuse me, what time is it?”

The servant jumped slightly, obviously not hearing Ja’far come up behind him. “Oh! It’s around one, sir. The generals’ meeting is about to start - if you hurry, you should make it in time.”

Ja’far inclined his head in thanks before striding down the halls as fast as he could without looking ridiculous. Once he made it to the large double doors of the meeting room, he opened them and watched as his colleagues' faces went pale.

“What?” Of course, he knew exactly what was going on, but it wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining if he admitted it.

Sharrkan, being the most brave, or possibly the most stupid (that was still up for debate), spoke first. “Are you… umm… back to normal?” Ja’far glared, making Sharrkan pale further. “From last night’s… whatever that was?”

He glared for just enough time to make the green eyed man uncomfortable before slipping back to his polite smile and answering. “Oh, of course! I’m very sorry you all had to witness that! I didn't mean to scare you! Truly!”

The generals seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. He could've sworn he heard Hinahoho mutter, “Thank Solomon,” but that might’ve just been his imagination.

After that, they appeared to be content on going back to chattering amongst themselves. Ja’far promptly made his way to his seat to the left of Sinbad.

Before sitting, he tapped Sinbad on the shoulder to get his attention and leaned into his ear. “If someone so much as attempts to give me any sort of alcohol ever again, I will skin them alive slowly, then add salt and vinegar to the wound each time I peel off a new piece of skin. In about five minutes, they’ll be begging me to kill them, but I won’t stop until they’ve died of blood loss. And I’ll make the rest of you sit and watch your friend get tortured and killed. Understood, maggot?”

Throughout his speech, Sinbad had turned a delightful shade of green that Ja’far hadn’t seen since they were kids, and it was drawing the attention of the others.

“You alright, Sin?” Pisti asked.

Ja’far gave them a small, but entirely innocent smile. “Oh, he’s fine, I just reminded him of how much paperwork he has piling up.”

The rest of the generals laughed good naturedly at that, except for Drakon and Hinahoho, who knew him far better than that - they were looking petrified. 

Though it would have gone completely unnoticed to those who weren’t paying attention, Ja’far smirked at the two in a way that made it seem as though he was a predator about to go in for the kill. They seemed to get the hint and started laughing alongside the others.

So in the end, Drakon, Hinahoho and Sinbad got their answer - they severely wished they hadn’t.


End file.
